


Neither Could Prosper

by Victorygin



Series: Unsustainable, Volatile, and Irresistible [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Porn, Dildos, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Open Relationships, Porn With Plot, Sexual Content, Smut, Strap-Ons, heads up this fic is not kind to gency, mercy is the fandom bicycle and this fic kind of addresses that lol, prosthetic, prosthetic cock, toxic relatonship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 08:13:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13947444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Victorygin/pseuds/Victorygin
Summary: Angela has a special request of Moira and is left unsatisfied until she isn't.





	1. Chapter 1

Moira looked up, her eyes narrowing as she spied Angela enter her lab. It was always in the lab these days. In the heat of this most recent omnic wave, Overwatch’s guardian angel had little time to improve her field tech, only repair it on the shuttle back before rushing to the med bay to aid those still in critical condition. While that did leave Moira in relative silence to research and tinker with some old prototypes of Angela’s, she couldn’t help but miss sharing the silence. The two rarely saw eye to eye, but they both sought improvement and discovery. 

But now her presence was less welcome. The darkness beneath her eyes had disappeared slightly, but the rumple of her lab coat lead Moira to believe it was not sleeping that had Angela looking so relaxed. 

It wasn’t just the silence they shared here. They were contradictory in every fashion and yet matched so completely, where combat flowed seamlessly into a dance that neither could stop until both were spent. But it had been some time since they shared the lab.

“Good morning.” her tone was clipped as she nodded to the clock, knowing none of the overwatch personnel adhered to the suggestions of the sun. “How is master Shimida?”

“Stable,” Angela replied, making her way to stand across from Moira with the barrier of a work table between them. 

She rarely bothered to ask how Moira knew about the others. The woman seemed to know everything about the comings and goings of Overwatch without ever leaving her lab except for the occasional power nap. Ever since Angela referred Gabriel to her to oversee his condition, she spent more and more time looking over Genji and the upkeep of his new body. He still couldn’t breathe properly without the respiratory mask. 

The young man it seemed, found many ways to show his appreciation. But if Moira had to guess, it wasn’t enough. For either of them. 

“I moved the tools over there if your Caduceus needs--” 

“That’s not why I’m here.” 

Moira’s mouth dried, hand hanging in the air for a moment still pointing to her tools. Two weeks. Two weeks since Angela had come to the lab, and even longer since they had...shared a debate as it were. But when Moira looked back, Angela’s eyes were cast down slightly, fingers loosely steepled as they rested nervously against her abdomen. 

“I think...That Genji’s combat on the field would be improved...if he were to become more comfortable with his new body.”

“And what do you think would speed that process along?”

“You made his body; you know how it works. You would know how to adapt...Please don’t make me say it.”

“I’m not the one mixing her samples.” 

Even if she were blind, Moira could have sensed the shift in Angela’s...priorities. Reyes wore his feelings on his shoulder, and the two weeks were restless for them both. But it was in these areas only that Gabe was less confrontational, preferring to leave things as they were. Moira straightened her back slightly, glancing to the shelf where she kelp Genji’s blueprints. It could certainly be done. But the real question was whether Moira had any dignity left to spare refusing her. 

“Don’t say it like that. It’s not the same thing, you know that.” Moira could hear Angela’s voice by her shoulder before she even felt the woman’s voice. She didn’t try to get closer, twine her fingers with Moira’s or ply her with sweet words; she was smarter than that, after all. She knew such things weren’t effective. 

Their relationship was not a healthy one, fueled by fierce debate, arguments over morality that became so heated the flame could only be exhausted by other means; Flirtation and gentle caresses worked on Angela’s other lovers. Her simpler ones.

Was that why she spent so much time with him? Too spent from the crisis to waste energy on something more challenging? Moira couldn’t help but wonder, a barrier of empty space filling between them once more as she took out a notebook, brainstorming the design. Dignity, it seemed, was a scarce war-time ration. 

“Don’t tell him to expect an exact match. I’m sure  _ you  _ will thank me for disregarding his former measurements, anyway.”

Angela blushed at that, but rushed forward to embrace Moira who quickly twisted, turning it into a kiss so fierce Angela would not be able to mistake or her true feelings on the matter. Gasping as Moira’s knee pressed into her core the reactions she could pull were instantaneous and it was clear Angela did not go to Shimada for a certain gratification Moira could achieve more thoroughly. That only soured her mood more and she pulled away enough to leave Angela gasping for breath. 

“If you are going to bother me with such irregular visits, I would ask you to notify me ahead of time. We are all working to combat this latest wave of omnics and I won't expend my precious leisure time assisting you with one of your  _ many  _ other dalliances.”

It was cruel to say, but no more so than Angela asking her assistance in this of all things; their relationship was as egalitarian as it was toxic.

Angela looked down again as she untangled herself, fixing her clothes for the second time that day. “That’s probably best then, Doctor.”

Moira heard the door slam once more. Getting a rise out of her used to be quite fun. 

When she pictured war being hell, designing prosthetic cocks had never come to mind. But this felt a dead ringer for what was surely waiting for her should any dullahan be so lucky as to take her head. 

She tried to keep writing, but her hands were the only thing to give away her emotions. That vile jealousy picking at her like so many crows. With a curse she tossed the notebook aside and turned to her computer to write there. She redirected her anger to some other task, planning the prosthetic in the back of her mind where it wouldn’t bother her so much. Nothing by her hands would be anything less than ground-breaking.

That night she dreamt of Genji in the form of a crow, preening as Angela lavished him with attention. There was something in his beak. Moira tried to see, but squinting sent blinding pain through her head. Before she woke up, the thing became clear. It was a blood red eye. 


	2. Chapter 2

She was able to finish the model in about a month, with the omnics retreating as she made the final touches. She would need to file a patent for this under another name, but Moira was proud of her work; it gave her a sick sort of pride. All the necessary tests were run. It was ready for the undeserving bastard.

Moira walked briskly to the cafeteria, knowing Angela was strict about her meals--even on the battlefield she kept something in her med bag. Sure enough, the good doctor was scanning patient files spooning soup into her mouth, though Moira doubted she was actually tasting it. She placed what looked like a black shoebox with a red ribbon on the table and patiently waited for Angela to look up. It didn’t take long for her eyes to drift with the movement, her spoon frozen halfway between the bowl and her gaping mouth. The splatter of tomato soup upon the table broke her trance and her eyes darted from the box and Moira’s smug grin. 

“Is that?... _ Was zur hölle _ \--Moira!”

“I thought you should give the all clear before I install his latest update...such as it is.”

“That will be  _ quite  _ unnecessary.” Angela hissed, looking about as if anyone but th ey would know what was inside such an innocuous package. “I’ll have mister Shimada prepped for surgery.”

“Is he not Genji these days? I thought commissioning something like this would suggest some sort of fondness between you. Perhaps I was reading into things that weren’t there. I should get my eyes looked at.” Moira teased, but it was burning acid on her tongue when she took back the box and nonchalantly tucked it under one arm.

“He should be ready for you in four hours.” Angela tried not to give her the satisfaction, but watching the woman squirm at least somewhat made up for the hell Moira endured in that month. 

Without another word, Moira left the cafeteria to ready her lab.

 

* * *

 

She was surprised--though not very--to see Angela burst through her doors two days later. 

“You vindictive beast!” It had been so long since hearing her scream like that, it was almost nostalgic. “He needed your help and you throw  _ this  _ at him! Has he not suffered enough?!”

_ ‘Have _ I  _ not?’ _

Moira drew herself to her full height as Angela thrust the appendage into her chest from the bag she brought it in. Of course she had the forethought to make it easily removable and replaced by his standard codpiece. It would have been foolish to let him wear it into battle and risk losing the appendage all over again, and she was no a fool. Without a word, Moira took the cock. It was limp like a kitten in her palm. The material it was made of had a slight give but was otherwise firm and slightly warm to the touch.

“Was it Shimada that took issue with my gift...or you?”

“How could you call that a gift?” she hissed,  “It doesn’t even look...natural!” 

Angela was deflecting the question, but what she said was true. Moira didn’t bother with a more natural pigmentation because she knew it would only look strange in contrast to the rest of his cybernetic form. No, the cock was a light grey, bumps lining the shaft on four sides with a girthy middle and what would be a slight curve upward would it were...activated.

Casually, she strolled to the door, activating the lock before turning back to Angela. “Weren’t you scandalized the other day in the cafeteria? I would prefer not to draw a crowd to my personal laboratory. It is my sanctum, after all. 

“Stop avoiding my question! Why did you--” 

“Stop avoiding mine.” Moira was invading  _ her  _ personal space now. 

Taking the top button of Angela’s lab coat, Moira popped it loose to reveal she was in a black nightgown, sheer and lacy. No wonder the coat went past her knees.

“Did it work properly? Was he able to achieve an erection with proper stimulation?” She asked, looking deep into Angela’s eyes. The latter didn’t try to push away her hands as she continued to remove the coat, more transfixed than frozen in her place. 

“What are you talking about?...It shouldn’t be like that, it should be--”

“Once more you avoid the question.” Moira cut in. Her voice might be sing-song if it didn’t sound so exasperated. “That’s not what I asked. I took great strides to make sure that my invention--withstanding appearance and  _ improvements _ \--would function just as if he grew up with it.”

“He didn’t even have it on when I saw him. He said he couldn’t bear to look at it and quite frankly I don’t blame him.” In a last-ditch effort, Angela tried to sound disapproving but it wasn’t very convincing. There was a hint of excitement in her eyes and Moira could almost hear her heartbeat.

Moira rolled her eyes and went to a hospital bed in the corner, it had a curtain for privacy for those rare times when she had human...patients. When she re-joined Angela the cock was nowhere in sight. Seeming to pay her no mind, Moira tapped at a few buttons on her side-visor.

“Please don’t do this, Moira...Don’t we fight enough as it is? I would have come to you if he asked for one regardless of whether he and I were involved.” 

Even when tired and angry, her skin flushed as Moira got closer, nails tracing the line of her jaw before trailing down and stopping at the neckline of her nighty. 

“You never said you disliked it.”

“Now’s not the time…” Angela tried to object, but her resolve was weakening. It had been so long since she and Moira…

Moira cradled her gently in her arms, leaning in to trail kisses up and down Angela's neck. She was strangely tender as she lifted Angela to sit on the table. 

“That's not what I meant…” Her accent was uncharacteristically thick, her hands roaming her lover’s body freely now before suddenly pressing her hips against Angela’s, who stiffened at a growing bulge between Moira’s legs.

“Did you like it? Did you like how it looked? For the briefest of moments,  _ cuisle _ ...Did you wonder what it would feel like inside you?”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, please leave a comment, or hell, if you haven't idea you want written, lemmi know :)
> 
> You can find me at http://victoryygin.tumblr.com/


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